


Wolf at the door

by spellitwithyourpeas



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, prose-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7281895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/spellitwithyourpeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She liked his hands on her. Warm, sure, and strong as he patches up the wound on her arm. A thin slice of intimacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf at the door

She liked his hands on her. Warm, sure, and strong as he patches up the wound on her arm. A thin slice of intimacy.

With each pull of the needle, with the sting of skin being pierced and stretched, it was as though with each small tug, she was gaining back a portion of the energy spent during the fight.

_The fight is that way girl. Now go out and finish it._

She always finished it.

He was so careful with her that she had to remind him.

_It takes a lot more to hurt me._

She wouldn’t disclose that the memories of abandonment were a thousand times more excruciating than any physical pain she’d ever endured. Her bravado masked the fact that, no, she was not a lone wolf. Her momentum- uprooting from city to city-was only a symptom of a greater tragedy. Her ability to roam only came from the history of one who had been deserted by the pack.

Dismissed.

Bloodstained palms tended to have that effect.

He was always more than a mission. Even the purity of love couldn’t hold back corruption. Yes. Some of it was intended. She liked to test him. To see him on edge, but in assessing his limits she learned how few she had herself.

But he had treated her as more than an instrument of violence. He admired her spirit for passion’s sake-not for the edge it gave her when sparring. The power to fight till she was breathless.  

And his ability to forgive was something she could never quite comprehend. It only seemed like an invitation to be fooled and hurt all over again.

When his fingertips kissed her skin, brushing over old scars and faded bruises. She wished it was his lips doing the tracing. That aspect of their relationship had never been a challenge. But now? The distance between them seemed palpable. It wouldn’t be as easy to reignite.

She’d settle for mapping out the white lines on his body, feeling the ridges etched in his skin from fights he had fought alone.

Stretched out before him, there was always a space she wanted to fill. So much she wanted to say, but she drifted into dreams of a grand hunt. Chasing after something she could never quite grasp. Of streaks of red in the snow and the taste of blood on her tongue.

Everything seemed so simple for her. Her choices, weren’t really choices at all-just a fluid movement as she took what she came for.

But he gave her reason to pause.

_Both halves of my life are mine._

He had bared his teeth. Growled out a harsh reprimand as her back had hit the wall. And she saw the Devil emerge.

Her heart beat faster. In that moment, gone was the gentle and upright Matthew. And she pushed back. Of course.

To her, he lived in a state of disorder that had an easy remedy.

Fusion.

Why try and choose when you can have both?

_This is who you are._

She’d whisper it till he believed her

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on [tumblr](http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/)


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